Never an Amish Bride

by Ophelia London

  It probably would’ve made things worse than they already were. Or maybe, he’d be able to see his mother…

  Before he got too carried away, he focused on the street. The shops were dark and empty except for the ice cream parlor that stayed open late for the teenagers to gather.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I guess the end of the drive sort of snuck up on me.”

  “Me, too,” Esther said, fiddling with the reins. “This wasn’t how I thought it would go…meeting with you today.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Can I ask you something now?”

  “Okay.”

  “Right before we left the goats, something seemed to bother you. You mentioned your sister, then, I don’t know, your mood changed. Was I reading you wrong?”

  “Nay.” She sighed. “But it’s nothing—no, it’s not nothing. It’s definitely a very important something.” She sat up straight and looked right at him, voice firm. “And I don’t see why I shouldn’t talk about it.”

  “Okay,” he said, not knowing how else to answer.

  “She’s getting married soon and she asked me to sew her wedding dress—which might not seem like a big deal to you, but she’s younger than me, and with Jacob gone I just wish—” She stopped talking and they both turned at a sound coming from behind them. An open buggy was heading their way. It looked like some teens out for a joyride, but Lucas knew they should not be caught together.

  “Go on,” he said, wanting so badly to take her hand. Offer some kind of comfort, even at the mention of his brother. He knew it was only a matter of time before he’d confess to her what had happened before he’d died. From the very beginning, Lucas knew that what Jacob had done in secret would hurt her badly.

  His worry now was, would she hate him, too?

  “Better not right now,” she said.

  “Is this Sunday a preaching Sunday?”

  “Yes. Do you want to come?”

  He smiled but bowed his head. “No.” Reading a few scripture passages and feeling reminiscent about home was not enticement enough to endure all the scrutinizing eyes showing up at a preaching would bring.

  “I ask because I wanted to know if you’re free. What is your schedule on Monday?” Lucas had his regular shift at the clinic and was volunteering at the Hershey Med Center in the afternoon.

  “I’m… Well, I’m doing some things in the morning, wedding things, but I’m free after supper.”

  Lucas thought fast, knowing he needed to steal away before the approaching buggy got any closer. “How about getting together at my house?” He paused, gauging her reaction. “It’s not far.”

  “Oh.” She was back to chewing on her thumbnail again, while her other hand was pushing into her collarbone. “I think that will be okay.”

  Lucas was almost shocked. He didn’t think she’d go for it.

  “There’re some things I still want to ask you,” she added. “And things I need to tell you.”

  “Same here.”

  He was aching to know how his family were all getting on. Was Jeremiah married with children now, like Bridget? What about his younger siblings? Were they courting or already engaged? He suddenly remembered the letter he’d received from Jacob, saying that he’d proposed to Esther Miller and she’d accepted. His brother had been so overjoyed, and so in love with her.

  “It’ll be totally platonic—on Monday,” Lucas felt the need to add, ready to spring off the buggy.

  “What does that word mean?” she asked, blinking up at him with round, curious eyes.

  He ran a knuckle under his chin. “Long story short, Plato was an ancient Roman philosopher. He had a theory that—”

  Esther burst out laughing, then elbowed his ribs. “I know what it means. You just seemed far off for a second, so I made a joke.”

  “Nice one,” he said, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle.

  “And Plato was Greek.” She elbowed him again, so near him now that he caught a whiff of her scented soap. She smells like vanilla—like a sugar cookie. His mouth began to water, and when she smiled at him, the sensation in his chest felt anything but platonic.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Home already?”

  Esther froze in place when she heard Maam’s voice. She reckoned everyone was upstairs preparing for bed.

  “Already?” she said. “It’s nearly eight o’clock.” Heavens! Why did she bring up the time? What if her mother wanted to know where she’d been the last four hours?

  “Yes,” Maam said, coming out of the kitchen to meet Esther by the wood-burning stove. Looked like a fire had just been lit, and the room smelled of fresh cinnamon rolls. “I thought you might be on a date.”

  “What?” Esther felt blood rush to her cheeks. “Wh-why would you think that?”

  Maam smiled and adjusted the white lace kerchief covering her hair bun. “That wouldn’t be so strange.”

  Esther sank onto the sofa, already feeling the weight of the conversation. “But…Jacob,” she couldn’t help saying.

  “It’s been two years.” Maam sat beside her. “Maybe you’ve mourned your poor Jacob the proper amount of time.”

  Esther didn’t know what to say. She’d been working so hard to get over the disappointment, to forgive Jacob for leaving her, to understand his death and why Gott allowed it. Not yet had she felt that “closure” everyone talked about.

  And she’d surely not reached the point where she considered courting.

  Too easily, she pictured a particular tall, vigorous, light-brown-eyed man who she’d spent time alone with three days already this week. But those hadn’t been dates. She and Lucas were only…helping each other. They both needed a friendly ear, someone to talk to about their problems.

  Totally platonic…

  She pictured him again, smiling when they’d joked about the goats’ names. Was that a tiny flutter in her stomach? If so, why did the next feeling fill her with guilt?

  He’d talked to her about treating his friend through addiction, like a professional doctor would have—someone with a formal, modern education. Someone who lived in the modern world, drove the cars, knew the slang, and would never think of returning to the plain life. Like hers.

  “I’m not ready yet,” she said to Maam, not sure if that was the complete truth.

  Maam squeezed her hand. “When it’s time, the Good Lord will whisper it to your soul and fill you with His spirit.”

  Even though she nodded, Esther wasn’t sure of the truthfulness of that, either. She hadn’t felt Gott’s presence in months. Did He no longer care about her questions and struggles? Had she gotten used to filling that void with making soap?

  “I better go to bed,” she said, needing to be alone with her thoughts, for she had many of them tonight.

  “Yes, you’ve got an early morning.”

  “Do I?” she asked, tossing the strings of her prayer kapp behind her shoulders. Then she remembered. “Oh, the wedding dress.”

  “She may not speak it aloud,” Maam said, “but your sister is very grateful for your help.”

  A small part of Esther wanted to laugh, but sarcasm always left a bitter taste in her mouth. So instead, she lifted a small smile and tried to feel gracious. “Did you know she asked if she could wear my wedding dress?”

  “Well, that’s not our tradition, but it would be a sweet gesture of you. I know she’s always loved the color of your dress.”

  “Mother,” Esther said. “I made that with my own two hands. It’s important to me.”

  “I know, dearest. I didn’t say you had to let her wear it, I only said it’s a sweet gesture.”

  “Okay,” Esther said, guilt from the childish outburst heating her body. “I’m sorry, Maam. I’m still having a hard time with…things.”

  “She loves you,” her mother added. “She really does.”

&nb
sp; Esther blew out a long breath. “I love her, too.” Without another word, Esther climbed the stairs, pausing for a moment to peer into Sarah’s room. Her sister lay on her back, one leg hanging over the side of the bed while the other was tangled in the sheets. Her light brown hair surrounded her head like a halo.

  Tomorrow will be a good day, she thought as she quietly undressed in the bedroom next door. I’ll pray hard for a positive attitude and for patience and love. Surely Gott will bless me with that.

  …

  Maybe she should’ve added fasting along with that prayer. Then again, fasting for forty days and forty nights like the Lord had done would still probably not have changed the outcome.

  It had been difficult enough to cut the blue fabric perfectly along the pattern lines, but nearly impossible with four sets of eyes watching every move she made, let alone Sarah’s anxious breathing and gasps the few times Esther had cut a bit outside the lines.

  “Are you stopping already?” Sarah asked as Esther began carefully folding the material still pinned to the pattern.

  “Jah,” she said, holding a safety pin between her teeth. “I promised Maam I’d help with the vocabulary lesson; then I need to fill a new soap order—Leah’s been waiting. After that, I have some errands to run.”

  She wanted to stop by Rebecca’s Yarn Barn to pick out the softest lamb’s wool for the kid goats’ Christmas sweaters. When she’d see Lucas next, he’d give her the pattern so she could start knitting right away.

  A tiny flutter tickled her tummy again when she thought about him but, since she couldn’t determine what that flutter meant, she ignored it. After the kinnahs left at the end of their schooling and she’d washed up the lunch dishes, the flutter was still there. And, since she knew the recipe by heart, her body practically went into autopilot when she escaped into her nook to make a double batch of soap.

  The flutter carried on even through her walk to visit Anna with canned sugar peaches and a loaf of warm cinnamon bread. But thanks to the lively conversation during supper, when Benjamin practiced counting to one hundred by fives and Eve sang it to the tune of “Amazing Grace,” Esther was finally able to forget about any flutters.

  …

  By Monday, the dress and all its layers were cut out, and Esther had sewn up two sides, working hard at the tricky inner seams so no stitches showed, as was the Amish custom. Sarah had also chosen her four wedding attendants. Anna—bless her pregnant heart—had volunteered to make those dresses, as it was the true Amish custom for the bride to make all of them.

  Even though Esther was to be one of those attendants, there was no way she could have made two dresses in such a short amount of time. It would be a miracle if the wedding dress was finished.

  “You taking the buggy out later?” Daed asked, startling Esther while she’d been slicing brownies in the kitchen after a supper of roast beef, creamed potatoes, and roasted beets. His question made her nearly nick her thumb.

  “If it’s okay,” she said, barely glancing at her father.

  “Where are you going?” Sarah asked, taking one of the brownies.

  “Yeah,” Benjamin inserted when Esther didn’t answer quickly enough. “Can I come, too? I’ll learn to drive my own pony cart soon.”

  “Not tonight, Benji,” Maam said, setting a glass of milk in front of him. “Big sister’s got her own plans.”

  “Like what?” Sarah pressed, licking the fudge frosting off the top of her brownie.

  Esther knew she couldn’t get out of answering this time. Would she tell another white lie or confess everything right there on the spot?

  “Don’t ask so many questions,” Eve said. “She might be meeting a handsome stranger for a secret date.”

  Esther couldn’t swallow and stared helplessly at her sister while a million words ran through her head like an explosion of alphabet soup.

  “She very well could be.” Maam winked at Esther. “And that’s none of your business, Little Miss Nosey.” She pointed her reading glasses at Sarah. “I need you to measure these for my lesson tomorrow.” She laid out some strips of cardboard cut into different sizes.

  “Maam, you know I mustn’t do anything that might damage my…” She held up one hand and wiggled her fingers, fudge on the tip of a pinkie.

  “You don’t need to use the pads of your fingers for this. Run along and find the box of rulers.”

  The second Sarah disappeared into the crafts room, Maam shot Esther a glance and cocked her head toward the door. Esther took the hint and reached for her cloak and black bonnet. “Be careful,” she said in a low voice, giving her another wink.

  Esther had no idea where her maam thought she was going tonight; she was just grateful for the distraction. “I will,” she said, quietly slipping out the back door.

  Peanut seemed to sense another early evening adventure, for she was nodding and whinnying, just busting to get out, as Esther entered the stable. In a flash, she was hooked up to the buggy and Esther was riding away from home, the map to Lucas’s house that he’d drawn for her the other night tucked into the folds of her dress. She’d taken this very buggy to see Jacob many times after they’d become engaged, but something about this buggy ride felt different.

  The man was mysterious, though Esther felt no danger. Thanks to Peanut’s quick clip, it didn’t take long until she came to the final point on the map.

  Out of nowhere, she had a flash of the first time they’d seen each other, when Lucas had that spot of cottage cheese at the corner of his mouth.

  Mercy me, that was adorable.

  But a thing like that would’ve been adorable on any man, she added forcefully. Lucas was just so…okay…attractive. And he was such a good sport to take her to see the kids, and he even had a jolly sense of humor. What was it he’d called her the other day? Kung Fu Grizzly? Or was it Koala? Teddy Bear?

  Streaks of a yellow and orange sunset striped the sky, causing Esther to feel a bit of that heavenly spirit that used to fill her not too long ago. She missed it.

  As she drew nearer to the house, she spotted his truck. Instantly, that silly girlish flutter in her stomach increased, which made her bite her lip to regain her sensible wits.

  Not at all Amish anymore, she repeated to herself. Before she could stop her brain, she was imagining what life would be like if she left the church like Lucas had, left her family and all her friends. Left the traditions she held so dear.

  A hot pressure pressed in her head, yet she couldn’t determine if it was out of fear of leaving her life or from sadness for a future she was so worried was coming that it was unstoppable. The weight of a boulder in her stomach made her swallow hard; then she nearly jumped out of her skin when Lucas began reining in the mule.

  “I said hi,” he called, shading his eyes from the bright sunset. “Twice, but you didn’t hear me.”

  “Aye,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t be able to read whatever her expression showed.

  “Deep in thought?” he asked, holding the reins with one hand while opening the door to the buggy with the other.

  “Thoughts? Oh, no! None!”

  He chuckled. “No thoughts at all, huh. That doesn’t sound like the Esther I know.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. “You’re teasing me again.”

  “Only because I know you like it.” Yes, she did. And the comment made her press her smiling lips together and turn into the wind. It was then that she noted he was wearing black wool pants, a blue long-sleeved shirt, and black shoes.

  “Why are you dressed like that?” she asked.

  “Like what?”

  She waved at him. “All you need are suspenders and a straw hat and you’d look nearly like my pa.”

  He glanced down at himself as if he hadn’t looked in a mirror all day. “I see what you mean. Maybe I’ve been living plain all these years but kept it a secret.”
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br />   “Pretty well-kept secret,” she said, gesturing at the satellite dish on his roof. It was a joke, but Esther couldn’t help smiling to herself, wondering if he knew he was the most Amish non-Amishman she knew.

  His house was painted a light gray and had a green shingled roof. It wasn’t large, but the land was lush. A sturdy bench swing sat on the spacious wraparound porch. A small herb garden and a big potted tomato plant sat in a shady corner.

  Lucas opened the front door. After stepping in, the first thing she noticed was that the house smelled like him. Like pine and leather and…something almost earthy, yet clean. Most of all, though, it smelled like hard work and sunshine. For a moment, she wondered how she might capture such heavenly scents in a soap.

  “Would you like a tour?” he asked.

  Her curiosity piqued. “Sure.”

  Heavy blinds—common in plain homes—were pulled back, showing large windows.

  “Well, this is the living room.” He paused to rub his smooth chin. “Or the family room—sitting room. I guess I don’t know what it’s called.”

  A deep-cushioned blue sofa sat on the far side of the room. Across from it was a comfy-looking armchair and a rocker. Under one of the big windows sat a short armoire, dinged up as if it had traveled thousands of miles. Beside another window was a bookshelf, lined with volumes that appeared both recent and ancient. The obvious centerpiece of the room was the black wood-burning stove built into the large stone hearth. Above it, an enormous TV screen.

  “Living room,” Esther said, trying not to fixate on the TV and other obviously modern electric-powered devices in the room.

  “Thank you for the clarification.” Lucas bowed his head.

  Just like the other homes in the area, the kitchen was part of the living space. One big room. A small table with two wooden chairs sat in the middle, separating the cooking area from another bookshelf—this one with hooks and pegs for coats and hats. The countertops were granite, which surprised Esther. She couldn’t help running a hand over the cool gray surface.